‘Only briefly,’ replied Rupert, biting a large chunk off his beef and onion barm cake.
‘And…’
‘Well,’ he said, trying to chew and talk at the same time, ‘their structure and composition are different to the bulk of the meteorite, and to that of the other, er, natural meteorites. They need to be subjected to a more thorough examination using experts in the relevant fields but, as far as I can tell, the artefacts seem to be made of a composite material unlike any I’ve ever come across – although I’m not an expert in such matters,’ he added quickly. ‘The engineering and science needed to construct such precise, minute, geodesic domes must be of the highest order. I’ve never seen anything like them.’
‘Have you any idea what they are?’ asked Liz, sipping her coffee, her favourite drink.
‘Not exactly, but the interesting thing,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘is that there are two distinct types of artefacts, small ones and larger ones.’
‘Is that why there are two petri dishes?’ asked Liz.
‘Yes, it is,’ replied Rupert. ‘The larger ones, which have a slightly different shape to the smaller ones, appear to be concentrated at the bottom of the pear-shaped meteorite.’
‘The wide end?’ asked Liz.
‘Yeah,’ replied Rupert. ‘The wide end. The smaller ones seem to be concentrated in the centre.’
‘For protection?’ asked Liz. ‘Because they’re more delicate?’
‘Possibly,’ replied Rupert, ‘but we need to analyse the intact meteorite to determine their precise locations.’
‘That’s fascinating,’ said Liz. ‘Do you think they have different functions?’
‘Yes, I do,’ replied Rupert. ‘I can’t say for certain but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say the larger ones were some kind of propulsion device and the smaller ones some kind of sensing and transmitting device, to gather information and transmit it back to… wherever they came from. However, so far, I’ve not detected any transmissions.’
‘But it doesn’t mean there aren’t any, right?’ blurted out Liz.
‘I suppose so. It depends when they transmit and how they transmit,’ replied Rupert.
‘What do you mean, how they transmit? Surely they’d use radio waves or some other form of electromagnetic radiation.’
‘That’s true,’ said Rupert, ‘but there are millions of possible frequencies and, if they’re an advanced civilisation, millions of ways to encrypt or encode the signal.’
For a while, neither of them spoke. They just sat in silence eating their food and drinking their coffee. It was Rupert who broke the silence. ‘First thing tomorrow, I’ll have a word with Billy. See what he suggests.’
Neither he nor Liz heard the burst of energy emanating from one of the petri dishes, a sound so high-pitched, so short-lived, that it was barely audible to human ears.
Approaching his 60th birthday, Mr Billy Croston was the epitome of a practical, hands-on experimentalist. What he didn’t know about astronomical experimentation wasn’t worth knowing. Although only qualified to GCE ‘A’ level standard, he was an absolute genius when it came to devising and setting up experiments. He was the most talented, experienced, experimental physicist any of them had ever known.
After Rupert explained what they were looking for, Billy knew immediately what to do. ‘It’s simple,’ he said. ‘All we have to do is to set up a sensitive detection field around the artefacts and link it to the computer for detecting signals for intelligent alien life from outer space, the SETI (Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence) computer. It’s programmed to detect any kind of “intelligent” signal.’
‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed Rupert. ‘How long will it take?’
‘Oh,’ said Billy looking at the clock on the wall, ‘I’ll have it done by nightfall.’
Liz exchanged glances with Rupert. ‘No sleep tonight then,’ she said.
‘No,’ said Rupert. ‘Let’s go and stock up on sandwiches and coffee.’
The first night passed without any sign of a signal, as did the following day. ‘Do you think we might be wrong?’ asked Liz, looking a little forlorn.
‘Could be,’ replied Rupert, ‘but I doubt it. We need to give it more time. Maybe they only transmit at certain predetermined intervals.’
‘Or the “batteries” have gone dead,’ said Liz.
When no signal was forthcoming over the following day and night, both Liz and Rupert began to have doubts. Serious doubts. Had their imagination run wild? Were they seeing what they wanted to see? Believing what they wanted to believe, rather than being objective and dispassionate scientists? Were they letting personal beliefs cloud their judgement? Either way, both of them were deflated.
‘Do you want to stay up again?’ Rupert asked a dejected looking Liz.
‘Why not,’ she replied. ‘I’ve got nothing better to do,’ she lied, thinking of sipping a mug of steaming hot coffee and nibbling a chocolate biscuit sat in her favourite, comfy armchair.
‘Okay. I’ll grab the sandwiches and coffee,’ replied Rupert, walking towards the door. ‘For the graveyard shift,’ he added as he disappeared down the corridor.
Three days and three nights without any proper sleep – all she’d had was the occasional catnap – took their toll on Liz. Her eyelids felt heavy and she struggled to stay awake. Just as she was on the verge of dozing off, it happened. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. A transmission. A transmission had triggered the detection field. Suddenly, Liz was wide awake. She jumped out of her chair, sprinted to the door and yelled, at the top of her voice, ‘RUPERT. GET BACK HERE. NOW!!!’
‘It’s definitely a transmission,’ said Rupert, checking the SETI computer. ‘An extremely short, intense burst of high frequency radiation, but definitely a transmission.’
Liz couldn’t contain her excitement. She jumped up and down like an excited little girl about to receive a coveted present. ‘I knew it! I KNEW IT!’ she shouted. ‘I just knew there was intelligent life out there!’ Then, overcome by excitement, Liz did something she never thought she’d do. She flung her arms around the man who, until a few days ago, she’d loathed, and hugged him. Hugged him tight.
Rupert’s response surprised himself. Not only did he return Liz’s hug, he went one step further. He kissed her on the cheek. Kissed the woman he’d ridiculed at every available opportunity. Ridiculed her for believing in intelligent, alien life and, in one of life’s little ironies, it was he, the doubter, who’d proved her right.
When they’d calmed down, Liz and Rupert considered their options. Should they wait for a second transmission to be absolutely sure, or should they tell everyone now? ‘We have no idea when the next transmission will be,’ said Rupert. ‘It could be tomorrow or it could be weeks, or even months, away. We have to tell them now. Anyway, they’re becoming suspicious about us spending all this time in the lab, plus they know Billy has connected something to the SETI computer. We have to tell them now.’
‘That’s tremendous news,’ beamed Viv. ‘Absolutely tremendous.’
‘Earth shattering more like it,’ enthused Frank. ‘It’s the biggest single discovery ever made. Well done to both of you.’
‘To the three of us,’ chimed in Liz. ‘We couldn’t have done it without Billy.’ Billy shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor. He hated being in the limelight.
‘Yes, well done to all three of you,’ said Viv, who’d gathered everyone together to hear the news.
The room crackled and fizzed with the buzz of excited conversation, as if it was charged with electricity. People jabbered frantically to their neighbours, to Viv, to Frank, to anyone who would listen. It was a cacophony of uncontrolled noise, of pent-up emotions spilling out after years of frustration. Finally, after decades of wondering, they’d discovered the first real evidence of intelligent, alien life. Intelligent, alien life trying to contact us.
Viv waited for the excitement to subside before addressing the assembled throng. ‘Let me reiterate again what a truly momentous discovery this is,’ he said. ‘The most important discovery ever made. But with such a discovery comes a heavy responsibility. I want each and every one of you to think very deeply about what our next step should be. Think about it and discuss it with your colleagues, but only your colleagues. No one else must know, at least not yet. We’ll reconvene at,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘1.00 p.m. sharp. That gives you three hours. Thank you.’
The ensuing discussion was short and sharp. Everyone had spent the previous three hours in frenzied conversations with their colleagues, arguing and debating the various options, and came to the meeting armed with definite views. Each individual was bursting to speak, to contribute, to be part of the greatest discovery ever made. To be part of history.
‘Right,’ said Viv, settling into his chair at the head of the table. ‘Who wants to begin?’
Twenty voices spoke at once. Every single person present wanted to air their views. To be the first to speak. To make their mark. It was chaotic. ‘QUIET!’ bellowed Viv, raising his hands into the air to quell the racket. ‘Quiet,’ he reiterated in a softer tone. ‘One at a time please.’ He waited until the noise died down completely before continuing. ‘Seeing it was Rupert and Liz who made the discovery, I think it’s only fair they should be the first to speak. Rupert, would you start us off please.’
‘It’s simple really,’ said Rupert, delighted at being the first one to speak. ‘Basically, it boils down to two questions. One. Are we sure, absolutely sure, that we really have discovered evidence for the existence of intelligent, alien life? And two, if we have, when do we make it public and who do we tell first?’
As soon as Rupert finished speaking, Viv asked Liz for her views. ‘Well, we shouldn’t be too hasty,’ said Liz. ‘We don’t want to make fools of ourselves. Remember the excitement when the first pulsar was discovered in 1967: a source from deep space emitting very strong, highly directional, periodic signals? Some scientists were convinced they were signals from an alien civilisation – Jocelyn Bell, a PhD student and her supervisor, Professor Anthony Hewish, even named their discovery LGM-1, for ‘’Little Green Men’’ – but it turned out the signals were a completely natural phenomenon; regular, intense bursts of directional energy from a rapidly rotating neutron star. We don’t want to make the same mistake. Then again,’ she added quickly, ‘we don’t want to wait too long and have the Americans or Russians beat us to it.’
Almost before the last word left her mouth, a dozen other voices filled the room. It was verbal warfare. Each person was so desperate to be the next one to speak.
‘This is hopeless,’ thought Viv, trying to restore order. He waited as, one by one, the voices fell silent. ‘To keep it orderly,’ he said, ‘I’ll ask each one of you in turn to present your views. That way, you’ll all get your chance to speak. Okay?’
Although there were some differences, the views put forward from around the table were essentially the same as those of Rupert and Liz. After the last speaker had finished, Viv turned to Frank and nodded.
‘Viv and I have discussed it too,’ said Frank, ‘and it’s a bit more complicated than you’ve made out. For instance, even if we’re certain these artefacts represent incontrovertible evidence of an advanced alien civilisation, the decision on whether to make that public knowledge is out of our hands. Such a major decision cannot be made without the approval of the government. Furthermore, we’ll have to inform all the other teams: the Americans, the Russians, the Chinese, in fact, the whole scientific community, before going public. But,’ he continued, looking at Viv, ‘I’m afraid the decision has been made for us. About one hour ago, we received a call from the Americans. They too have discovered the artefacts.’
10
Decisions
A stunned silence filled the room as what Frank had said registered in their brains. A silence borne of shock and… and a mixture of frustration, anger and stupidity. Frustration that the Americans had stolen the limelight. Anger that they’d let them. And stupidity at their dilly-dallying and indecisiveness. ‘And,’ thought Liz, ‘if the Americans have discovered the alien artefacts, it won’t be long before the Russians, Chinese and the international team discover them too.’
‘I’m surprised,’ said Viv, breaking the silence. ‘Really surprised. I thought it would have taken them longer. After all, they only had one pear-shaped meteorite to work with compared to our two.’
‘That’s true,’ said Frank, ‘but they have better equipment.’
Either way, the delay in reporting their findings had cost them dear.
‘Have they gone public?’ asked Liz.
‘No,’ said Frank. ‘No, they haven’t. To their credit, they informed us first.’
‘What exactly did they say?’ asked Rupert.
‘Carl asked how we were getting on with the analysis,’ replied Frank.
‘And what did you tell him?’ said Rupert.
‘That we had discovered something interesting. Very interesting,’ said Frank.
‘And…’
He said, ‘Have you? Like what?’
‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Rupert. ‘It sounds like a game of cat and mouse.’
‘That’s exactly what it was,’ said Frank. ‘A game of cat and mouse. That’s Carl’s style. He was probing to see how much we knew.’
‘And did you tell him?’ blurted out Liz.
‘Yes, I did. I had no option. I told him that we had discovered what appeared to be alien artefacts, probably from an advanced civilisation.’
‘Thank God for that,’ said a relieved Rupert. ‘At least they know we found them too.’
‘Yes, they do,’ replied Frank. ‘But, like us, they’re unsure of the next step.’
‘However,’ interjected Viv, ‘we did agree that the other teams should be informed. Carl’s agreed to do that later today. I’m sure they’d have found them anyway.’
‘Did he go into any detail about their findings?’ asked Zak.
‘A little,’ replied Frank. ‘I think he found it hard to contain his excitement. He wanted to share what they’d discovered but only told us the bare facts.’
‘Have they found out more than we have?’ queried Rupert tentatively, afraid he might be upstaged.
‘It’s hard to say. He only told us they’d discovered some unusual artefacts within the meteorite, probably of alien origin.’
‘Have they detected any transmissions?’ asked Liz.
‘Yes, at about the same time that you did. They’re trying to decipher them.’
As the discussion continued, both Liz and Rupert wished it had been them who’d informed the Americans rather than the other way round. They were disappointed, but it could have been much worse. The Americans hadn’t gone public so at least they’d get a share of the glory.
‘Carl has requested an immediate meeting between his team and ours before we inform our respective governments,’ said Frank. ‘They’ll be at Jodrell Bank tomorrow.’
At first, the meeting was a cagey affair, like two boxers sparring, testing each other out. Probing to see what each other knew. Both sides were cautious about divulging what they’d found – they didn’t want to divulge too much too soon. However, as the meeting progressed and it became evident that the Americans – Carl had brought two members of his team, Dr Simon Greer, a young, ambitious astrophysicist and Dr Lucy Fawcett, an even younger astrochemist – had found roughly the same things as them, both sides relaxed and opened up. The exchange of information and ensuing discussion was both lively and interesting, with each side trying to gain the upper hand, but nothing new emerged. One thing, however, became crystal clear: they had to inform the governments of Britain and America of their discovery. And they had to do it right away.
‘I’ll phone the Prime Ministe
r,’ said Viv.
‘And I’ll call the President,’ said Carl, checking his watch. ‘He should be up by now. I’m sure once we’ve told them they’ll want a meeting as soon as possible.’
‘Welcome to the White House,’ said the President of the United States of America to the small gathering of scientists and top governments officials from Britain and America. ‘As you all know, we’re here to discuss the way forward regarding your, er, momentous discovery. The most significant discovery in the history of the human race. The Prime Minister and I have agreed to chair the meeting jointly. Isn’t that right,’ he said, glancing at the British Prime Minister.
‘It is,’ replied the Prime Minister. The President nodded for her to continue. ‘Whatever is decided today, we have to act fast. News like this will leak out. Spread like wildfire. It’s impossible to keep secret. As sure as night follows day, someone, somewhere will leak it. It’s inevitable.’
‘There are two things we need to address,’ said the President. ‘One. The scientific aspects. We need to learn as much as possible about the artefacts. Their structure, their source and the reason they were sent. Two. When and how do we make the discovery public? We don’t want to be accused of withholding information yet we don’t want to cause a mass panic either. It’s a delicate balancing act.’
‘You’re right. We have to play this very carefully,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘The last thing we want is an outbreak of world-wide hysteria.’
‘Absolutely,’ said the President. ‘We don’t want a repeat of 1938.’
‘1938,’ said Liz. ‘Why? What happened in 1938? Was it something to do with the start of World War II?’
‘No. Nothing at all to do with World War II, unless…’ said the President stroking his chin. ‘Unless…Yes, in a way I suppose it was. It demonstrated the enormous power of radio to influence a mass audience, a fact that was well understood by the National Socialists in Germany. The Nazis, led by their astute propaganda chief Josef Goebbels, made radio their medium in a way that no one else, either before or since, has been able to replicate. But no, I wasn’t referring to that but to the infamous radio broadcast by Orson Welles. It happened on the day before Halloween, October 30 1938, when millions of Americans tuned in to a popular radio programme that featured plays by, and often starring, Orson Welles. That evening, the performance was an adaptation of HG Well’s science fiction novel, The War of the Worlds, about a Martian invasion of Earth. However, in adapting the book for radio, Welles made it sound like a news broadcast about an actual invasion from Mars, presumably to heighten the drama.
The Dark Freeze Page 7
